


The Colours of You

by Honey_Hued_Hermes



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji in Love, Akaashi Keiji is Cute, Akaashi Keiji is a Mess, Angst, Baking, Bokuto's simping :p, Cliche, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Grocery Shopping, Jealousy, Kinda, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not beta'd we die like men, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Akaashi Keiji, Pining Bokuto Koutarou, Pre-Slash, Sharing a Bed, Sleepovers, Unspecified Mental Illness, suicidal idealization, very light tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Honey_Hued_Hermes/pseuds/Honey_Hued_Hermes
Summary: Bokuto Koutarou knows that Akaashi Keiji will have the most vibrant of colours, knows that the rest of the world will dull in the glory of his light.He wants to see them. More than anything.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji & Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 22
Kudos: 168





	1. A Blank Page

Akaashi Keiji is a blank page.

Koutarou knows next to nothing about him and, while that isn't a bad thing, considering they've only known each other for a year at most, something in him aches to know more.

Maybe he isn't paying attention, Koutarou is known for getting distracted, he knows his attention span sucks, but there is something in him screaming at him to _focus_ _. Just focus!_

Akaashi Keiji is not an open book.

Far from it. He is reserved and hides his emotions with a mask of indifference and Koutarou feels an itch under his skin. It doesn't sit right with him. The way people shrink beneath Akaashi's gaze, the whispers about him being _apathetic_ and _cold_. And the feeling is burning hot in his chest because these people are so _wrong._ While he doesn't know much about him Koutarou knows that Akaashi is one of the most caring people he's ever met.

Bokuto Koutarou wears his heart on his sleeve.

It's usually not a choice. His emotions boil and bubble over and they spill and make a mess and Koutarou hates it. Hates the lack of control, hates the uneasy darkness that twists its way into his mind at the most trivial mistakes. He feels the heavy weight in his chest, it sits right under his throat and makes it hard to breath. It chokes him and weighs him down and his mind screams, loud and brash and the people around him whisper and scoff and he feels like he's melting. But there is Akaashi, a breath of fresh air. Someone who doesn't judge Koutarou on his emotions. Akaashi helps put things in perspective and it's easy to come back down when Akaashi's voice is smoother than silk and deeper than the night sky and so unshakably _him_ that Koutarou is left more breathless than before.

Akaashi Keiji is full of colour, Everybody is actually, but Koutarou has never seen quite enchanting colours as those of Akaashi. Koutarou yearns to know more, yearns to see every shade and every hue of the man that is Akaashi Keiji.

Bokuto Koutarou knows that Akaashi will have the most vibrant of colours, knows that the rest of the world will dull in the glory of his light and he can't wait to find out.


	2. Pitch Black: A Murky Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi's not having a good day
> 
> Bokuto's determined to make it better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen... it's 2am and I've been watching Bob Ross for the past hour I cannot promise this is comprehensible.
> 
> Enjoy!

Akaashi's having a bad day, it doesn't take much to notice it, but it's a colour of him that Koutarou isn't familiar with. A murky sludge that rests in the tension that ripples through his shoulders, the dullness that sits in his eyes, in the way he carries himself; hunched shoulders and furrowed brows expressing more than words ever could.

Koutarou is all too familiar with the feeling of bad days. A weight in your chest, heavier than lead that drags on you throughout the day. A certain type of numbness that seeps into your bones and you feel hollow and fragile, like you'll break at any moment. It's vulnerability and lack of control all wrapped up in one and the unending darkness that accompanies it.

He knows what makes him feel better but with Akaashi it's a shot in the dark, and it's a shot he doesn't want to mess up. Akaashi always hides behind a solid mask and it's understandable why people call him apathetic (regardless of how wrong that it) but Koutarou has long since realized that despite all of Akaashi's ethereal qualities- his smile, his eyes, his hands, frankly Koutarou could go on forever- he is still very much human and, as a human, he is prone to bad days.

Today seems worse than others though and Koutarou does what he does best, he talks. It's an endless stream of chatter about no particular thing, it spills out of his mouth toppling into sentences he's sure aren't completely comprehensible and he prays to any of the gods above that it works, that it distracts Akaashi from whatever darkness is shifting through his mind. It's all worth it as he watches some tension drain from Akaashi, it rolls off of him in waves and the way his eyes have lightened fills Koutarou's chest with something akin to pride. It makes his chest puff slightly at the warm feeling that flutters through him. He's glad he can help Akaashi in the way Akaashi always helps him.

At the end of the day, after walking with Akaashi to his home, Koutarou holds back from hugging him, knows by the way Akaashi has been shrinking in on himself throughout the day that it would be unwanted. He settles for a hand on his shoulder, lets it linger and hopes to provide some nonverbal support, “See you tomorrow, 'Kaashi,” he says, mustering up a wide grin and feels his chest expand when Akaashi returns it with a small one of his own.

Akaashi nods and bids him goodbye and Koutarou knows he did good when, before he went to bed, he got a simple text reading, _Thank you_.

It's the next day when Koutarou really starts to worry, whatever light he left Akaashi with yesterday had been snuffed out with an inky blackness much darker than the day before. Akaashi's quiet, quieter than usual, only replying with monosyllabic words if anything at all. His eyes are downcast and swirling storm of unreadable thoughts that Koutarou wished he understood.

He wishes he could read Akaashi like Akaashi could read him. He wishes he could simply look at him and know what he needs, but he knows that's not how this works so he plans out a way to ask Akaashi what he needs, get the answer directly from the source as to not mess an anything up.

He doesn't get a chance until after both school and practice, Practice had been almost normal, like Akaashi was trying to act like himself as to not worry his teammates but he was still off. Just slightly sluggish, almost unnoticeable if you weren't looking for it. Fortunately, Koutarou was looking for it.

The sun is beginning to set by the time they leave the gym, the air sends a chill down his spine and he burrows himself deeper into his jacket. The deeps oranges and cotton candy pinks as the sun dips deeper into the horizon casting the world around him in a sugary hue. The light reflects in Akaashi's eyes and Koutarou's mouth goes dry, his mind stumbling to remember that he needed to talk to Akaashi about whats been bothering him.

He slows to a stop, reaching out and lightly tugging on Akaashi's hand to stop him as well. The brief contact send a spark through his vein, and the tips of his finger tingle, “What's-I-,” Koutarou huffs, frustrated at his inability to form words, he takes a breath, ignoring the spark of curiosity in Akaashi's eyes, “What can I do to help you feel better,”

Akaashi merely blinks, once, twice and there's another unreadable look in his eyes, different from the one before, softer. It's gone just as quickly as it came, Akaashi's brows furrow in thought and Koutarou just resists reaching over and smoothing them out, “I don't want to be alone,” Akaashi purses his lips, eyes flickering as if he's done something wrong, “If you're not busy, would you mind spending more time with me?”

Koutarou hopes he masks his shock. The request is unexpected but not unwelcome, warmth fills his veins and he can barely contain a smile, “Of course,” he all but yells, “Oh! We can go get some snacks- ice cream! And then stop at the nearby park for a while!”

Akaashi's shoulder sag in relief, a minuscule movement that makes Koutarou smile wider.

They're sitting on a park bench, the sun almost completely down, dark reds and purples paint the evening sky as the first remnants of stars make themselves known. The silence between them is soft, like a spring breeze and Akaashi has an unwavering focus on the ice cream in front of him and it would be laughable if it wasn't incredibly endearing, Akaashi had settled on straight strawberry ice cream, the kind that had Koutarou wrinkling his nose in distaste. Akaashi had given him a light shove when he saw his expression.

Koutarou had chosen a classic chocolate chunk which had Akaashi rolling his eyes like he had guessed it from the start, which knowing him he probably had.

They hadn't spoken in a while, but Koutarou could see the lightness that Akaashi radiated, a softness to him that was not visible in the murkiness of his mind. Their ice cream was gone quick but they didn't move from the bench, content to enjoy each others company in the light of the twinkling stars.

“Thank you for doing this Bokuto,” Akaashi said, the softness of his voice breaking the silence between them, “It was incredibly kind of you,”

Koutarou smiled, “Don't worry about it! It's not a problem,”

Another gap of silence, “Is there anything else you need?” Akaashi meets his eyes at the question, the steel blue reflecting the night sky.

He seems to hesitate again, “A hug would be nice,” he mumbles, his blush not quite hidden by the lack of light.

Koutarou pretty much drags him off the bench, wrapping his arms around Akaashi and burying his face in the back of his neck. Akaashi freezes at the abrupt movement before melting into the embrace, arms curling around Koutarou's back.

They stand like that for much longer than a normal hug should last. But, of course, this isn't a normal hug. It burns in all the right ways, the warmth of it makes it feel like Koutarou is melting. Akaashi's hold on him is gentle but intoxicating all the same and Koutarou opts to repress the unwanted thoughts because now was _not_ the time.

When they finally pull apart Koutarou is beaming, the darkness is finally gone, leaving Akaashi shining like on the of the bright stars above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell I rly like Akaashi's eyes and also don't know how to use honorifics
> 
> Pls save me im tired :P


	3. Blood Red: Barbed Wires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi's eyes are filled with barbed wires 
> 
> Koutarou is fed up with Akaashi not taking care of himself

Koutarou feels like he's burning, like molten lava runs through his veins. His skin itches at the sensation, the utter _wrongness_ of it all.

Akaashi looks about as good as Koutarou feels, which is bad. He's sure it's not one of Akaashi's murky days, positive that by the clench of his jaw and his barbed wire eyes that it is something much worse.

He strides through the hallway, face twisted as if holding back a scowl and nobody meets his eye. Akaashi doesn't seem to care.

The coldness in Akaashi's eyes is something new. They are calculating and sharp and harsh and Koutarou feels like they could tear him apart in he looked directly in them. The rest of the team seems to feel the same way, doing their best to not mess up during practice. Apathetic judgment oozes off Akaashi in waves and everyone's on edge, not wanting to be the one who sets him off.

Koutarou gets the feeling that Akaashi isn't the type of person to get angry often or easily and looking at him now, everything about him screaming with unbridled fury, he's not sure he wants to know whet happened.

Akaashi's movements are stiff, choppy in a way that sends Koutarou reeling at the contrast. He is grace, smooth movements and soft touches and Koutarou _hates_ how unfamiliar this Akaashi is. Koutarou also hates that he and Akaashi had agreed to study at Akaashi's after practice; frankly Koutarou doesn't feel equipped to deal with the anger, especially on a bad day.

The worry he's felt over his friend has over shadowed the dull pain ricocheting through his body. Koutarou comes so close to cancelling on him, but the way Akaashi looks as he waits for him sends a shoot through his heart and he can't imagine leaving Akaashi alone like that. Akaashi no longer looks angry- though the barbed wires have not left his eyes- he simply looks tired, bone aching exhaustion settles deep in his posture, “You ready to go, 'Kaashi?” he asks as he approaches.

Akaashi only nods before taking off, not bothering to check if Koutarou was following. Koutarou quickly catches up and begins rambling, he isn't sure if it's a good idea or not but Akaashi doesn't seem to mind, so he continues.

By the time they reach Akaashi's Koutarou somewhat has a plan. It's more of _This is what needs to happen_ and not really a _T_ _his is what to do to make it happen_ type plan but Koutarou thinks he can pull it off. It should be easy, all he has to do is get Akaashi to go to sleep.

In theory it is easy. In reality? Probably, one of the hardest things Koutarou has ever done. In the back of his mind he knew Akaashi was stubborn, but to this extent? It's starting to grate of his already frayed nerves.

They study in silence, though by now Koutarou has stopped absorbing anything in his textbook. Studying always sucks, but with the tension in the air and Akaashi's frigid voice Koutarou is struggling more than usual.

Koutarou sighs before closing his textbook, “You look tired,” he says, blunter than he intended to be.

Akaashi glares at him and his blood runs cold at fire in his eyes, “I'm fine,” is all he gets in reply.

Koutarou huffs, “Yeah, that's why everyone was so on edge around you today, because you're fine,”

Koutarou doesn't know why he's as agitated as he is, but something about the way Akaashi is acting fuels his frustration.

Akaashi clenches his jaw, his grip tightening on his pencil but he doesn't say more.

“Seriously, Akaashi, you look exhausted,” Koutarou forces a light chuckle, “You gotta take care of yourself dude, which includes sleeping when you need it and, trust me, you need it,”

Akaashi's eyes are on his textbook again, avoiding the concerned look Koutarou is giving him, “I'm fine,” he says again.

Koutarou rolls his eyes, deciding to change tactics, “If you don't go to bed, I will not hesitate to drag you there myself,” he says with a teasing smile.

And he _knows_ he's getting on Akaashi's nerves, _knows_ he shouldn't push this but to be honest, today he doesn't have the patience to put up with this, all he wants if for Akaashi to take care of himself. It shouldn't be this hard.

Akaashi squints at him, mouth set in a hard line, “I'm _fine,_ ” it's sharp and prickly and on any other day Koutarou might have backed down.

“You asked for it,” he mumbles standing from his chair.

Akaashi doesn't move but his eyes follow him until Koutarou is standing behind his chair. With one swift pull, he yanks Akaashi's chair away from the table and turns it to face him. Akaashi looks furious but doesn't make a move or say anything. Koutarou gives him a cheeky smile before grabbing him, pulling him up and throwing Akaashi over his shoulder.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi snaps, squirming in his grip, “Put me down!”

“Nope,” Koutarou tightens his hold, crossing the short distance to reach Akaashi's bed, “You need rest,”

He drops Akaashi unceremoniously onto his bed, “I need to study,” Akaashi moves to stand up but Koutarou stops him, “I will lay on you if I have to,” he pushes Akaashi back, “Now sleep,”

His eyes are hard and cold and the tension in his jaw has yet to falter but Koutarou is not deterred. Akaashi huffs, moving to stand up again and Koutarou tsks at him, “You asked for it,” he repeats.

He flops down right onto Akaashi who grunts at the sudden weight, “Bokuto, please get off me,”

Koutarou burrows into Akaashi's chest, legs tangling with Akaashi's in hope to not crush him, “Not until you're asleep,” he mumbles, “You've been really grumpy today and regardless of what it's from sleep always helps with anger,”

Akaashi sighs, shifting beneath him, “I'm really not getting out of this, am I?”

Koutarou laughs lightly, “Nope!”

One of Akaashi's hand falls and rests on the small of his back, the tips of his fingers brushing a strip of bare skin from where his shirt has ridden up and Koutarou's brain short-circuits. His mind begins racing as the warm contact snaps him back to reality. He is literally, actually, _laying_ on Akaashi. His breath stutters, he should've through this through, what the _fuck_ was he thinking! 

But then Akaashi's breath evens out, the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath Koutarou, and the way his features relax and soften as he drifts off, lips parted just so, sends Koutarou's heart into a frenzy at the sight. His mind is fuzzy and warm and he doesn't even try to smother his smile. Nevermind, this was his best idea ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi gets short tempered when he's tired, no you can't chagne my mind
> 
> Also in this I made Bokuto have a bad day as an explanation for his lack of patience 
> 
> :P


	4. Sunset Orange: The Feeling of Belonging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koutarou and Akaashi bake a cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is rly dialogue heavy
> 
> Also since it's not as obvious,, Orange=Content

“Can't we do something other than studying,” Koutarou whined, dragging his school bag behind him with an exaggerated huff.

Akaashi merely looked at him, not bothering to slow his pace, “Okay,”

Koutarou perked up, surprised that Akaashi had agreed, “Really! What're we gonna do then?”

Akaashi came to a stop and cocked his head to the side, his eyes shone like he knew that this this conversation was going to happen, which he probably did, “If you would like,” he started, voice low, “I've been wanting to try this cake recipe I found online. Would you like to help?”

Koutarou nodded eagerly and Akaashi smiled fondly, “We'll need to pick up a few things first,” he started in the direction of the store

Koutarou could barely contain his excitement, “'Kaashi~ do you bake a lot?”

“Not really, never felt the need to,”

“Then why're you doin' it now?”

Akaashi shrugged noncommittally, “Bored, I guess,”

Koutarou nodded cutting the conversation short as they reached the store, “So, what do we need?”

Akaashi pulled out his phone, “Not much, just some eggs, vanilla and sugar,”

“Can we get that?” Koutarou asked pointing towards a bag of gummy worms.

“No,”

“Aw, why not~”

“Bokuto, we don't need them, we are making a _cake_ ,”

“Well, we can put them _on_ the cake,” Koutarou argued, ignoring Akaashi's scathing look.

“Fine,” Akaashi sighed, he sounded exhausted and Koutarou would've felt bad if not for the fond shine of his eyes.

“Yes!” Koutarou cheered, rushing to grab a bag off the shelf.

The rest of their shopping trip was uneventful and mostly consisted of Koutarou pointing out things they could put on the cake and Akaashi vehemently saying, “Bokuto, that is _garlic_ _powder,_ ”

Koutarou had never enjoyed shopping before, especially grocery shopping but wandering the florescent lit isles with Akaashi made it feel like something fun, like something special.

On their way to Akaashi's he lookes at Koutarou, curiosity swimming in his steel-blue eyes and asked, “Do you bake at all, Bokuto?”

Kourtarou looks up at the sky, staring at the swirling clouds and the soft blue, “I used to,” he took a breath, “When I was a kid my mom and I used to bake all the time, but, then I got really into volleyball and her work got busier so we kinda stopped,”

Akaashi glances at him, expression unreadable, “That sounds very nice,” his voice is quiet and _so incredibly_ soft that Koutarou melts on the spot, “I appreciate you doing this with me,” Akaashi continues, “It would not be nearly as fun without you,”

Koutarou's throat constricts and he's mildly embarrassed about the effort he has to use to not tear up. Because here he is standing in the warm light of the setting sun with this _incredibly_ beautiful boy, who just says things like _that_ and then expects Koutarou not to immediately have a heart attack. And the _audacity_ Akaashi has to then just continue on like nothing happened, like Koutarou hasn't full on died because of him? Unreal.

They reach Akaashi's home without any more heart melting moments, which is good because Koutarou really wants to be alive for cake.

Akaashi sets to work in his kitchen, pulling out various bowls and mixers and pulling up the recipe on his laptop, “Okay,” he clasps his hands together in front of him, “First we need to preheat the oven to three-fifty and then...” he turns to Koutarou, “Can you grab the salt, baking powder and flour, please?”

Koutarou grabs the ingredients quickly, “How long is this gonna take?”

Akaashi looks at his increduousily, but there is a soft smile adorning his face, “Don't be so impatient,” he teases, “we just started,”

Koutarou whines, not quite forming coherent words, “Mean~ 'Kaashi,”

Akaashi snickers quietly and Koutarou all but forces his heart to calm down. They work in sync sifting and mixing ingredients, light conversation flowing easily and the preperation ends much quicker than Koutarou would have liked, “This is gonna take forever~” Koutarou complains the moment the cake is in the oven.

Akaashi rolls his eyes affectionately, “It's only half an hour, I'm sure you'll survive,”

“'Kaashi, I will literally die,” he sprawls himself on the kitchen floor, “You won't even let me eat the gummy worms,”

“You said they were for the cake,”

Koutarou moans pitifully, “Yeah but~”

Akaashi squats down and smears excess batter on Koutarous nose, “Stop whining,”

Koutarou squawks indignantly, reaching for the open bag of flour they had left on the floor, he grabs a handful and flings in at Akaashi, landing back on his elbows. The sight is laughable, if not the cutest thing ever. Akaashi's dark hair is now dusted with white flour, specks of it has litter his face before the rest fell unceremoniously onto his legs, staining his pants. Akashi's eyes are wide in shock but the competitive spark in them is impossible to miss, “Shit,” Koutarou whispers, partly in fear and partly to cover the fact that he's laughing, “'Kaashi, I'm so-” a sharp laugh, “I'm so sorry,”

“Oh?” Akaashi counters, leaning forward, “Are you?”

Suddenly there's flour being rubbed into his hair and Koutarou all but shrieks, bolting to his feet, “You-” he splutters, staring at Akaashi's smug expression with vexation, he points a finger “Just remember that you started this,”

“How did I-” Akaashi is cut short by an egg being cracked on his head, he lets out a chocked gasp.

Koutarou cackles, unfiltered glee running through his veins, he opens his mouth to gloat, say something smarmy just to rub it in, though at the sight in front of him he's quick to back track, “'Kaashi please don't,”

Akaashi hums and raises his brows mockingly, “Don't what?” he's reaching towards some left over milk, “Don't what Bokuto?”

Koutarou doesn't have a chance to protest before the milk is dumped on him, his hair flattening at choppy angles as the cold liquid rushes through it and down his back. When his eyes meet Akaashi's he freezes, his eyes full of mirth and untouched warmth that contrasts the coolness of the milk, one of his hands is pressed into his mouth, smothering a smile, egg is dripping from his hair and Koutarou doesn't think he's ever looked that pretty.

His thoughts are cut short by the sharp ring of the oven alarm. Oh, right, the cake. Akaashi quickly shuts it off before turning to look at Kourtarou, “Go have a shower,” he says, voice airy and light, “You can borrow some of my clothes and I'll throw yours in the wash,” at Koutarous sounds of protest he continues, “I'll have one after and then we'll make icing and the cake will be cool enough by then to frost and eat,”

Akaashi gently ushers Koutarou in the direction of the bathroom, “Put your clothes in the hamper by the door I'll get to them,”

After a much needed shower and Koutarou scrubbing milk and flower out of his hair, he exits the bathroom. Akaashi's clothes are a bit short on him but it's better than nothing   
(and his mind _definitely_ does not linger on the fact that he is wearing _Akaashi's clothes_ ), when he reaches the kitchen he finds it just as spotless as when they started and he feels guilt pool in his stomach for not helping clean up. Akaashi is standing over the sink scratching dried egg out of his hair, “Your turn,” he nods towards the bathroom.

Akaashi's eyes linger on him, with that same reoccurring unreadable look that is slowly driving Koutarou insane. It doesn't dawn on him that this is the first time Akaashi's seen him with his hair down.

Akaashi is out of the shower in no time and they are soon icing the cake without any other baking “mishaps”- well Akaashi is icing it and Koutarou is carefully laying the gummy worms atop it, defiantly _not_ eating any in the process. They quickly cut slices and arrange themselves on the now clean floor to eat, they are side by side, shoulders touching and knees knocking together and Koutarou feels sparks, heart skipping a beat.

And Koutarou looks at Akaashi, looks at the icing smeared on his lip, looks at the post-shower glow and his rosy cheeks and Akaashi looks so at peace, so incredibly pretty. And it hits Koutarou hard, hits him how Akaashi looks like he belongs here, like this is what he was made for, sitting on his kitchen floor, -the faint orange hue from the last light of the setting sun painting him in a soft, otherworldly glow- eating homemade sweets, with Koutarou by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baking is an orange activity!!!  
> :P  
> Questions? Comments? Concerns? Feel free to share them!


	5. Sunflower Yellow: Brighter than the Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koutarou is weak for Akaashi's laugh and smile and eyes and, y'know what? Just Akaashi in general.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is disappointingly short but I'm not upset at the outcome
> 
> Enjoy :p

Koutarou is very aware of his feelings for Akaashi. How could he not be.

He felt like he handled them rather well. He did his best to not let them get in the way of their friendship or their teamwork. And, yeah, it was difficult at times, I mean have you _seen_ Akaashi. Koutarou _swears_ Akaashi is the most gorgeous person he's ever met, with his eyes deeper than the sea and hair darker than the night sky, his fair skin and red lips and slender hands and his legs; his _legs_ have you _seen_ them?

It took all of Koutarou's will to not stop in his tracks when it came to Akaashi. Everything about him screamed at Koutarou to look, to see, to admire, but there was nothing about Akaashi that was as gorgeous as his laugh or his smile.

It was a rare sight, to see Akaashi smile, and even rarer to hear him laugh. The experience alone left Koutarou feeling like he spiked the winning point at nationals. The erratic beat of his heart, the shortness of breath and the sheer shock of it all combined in the gentle sound of Akaashi's laugh.

The first time he heard it Koutarou swears he went into cardiac arrest. At this point he can't even remember what he said to make it happen, one moment he was rambling on about something he and Kuroo had done and the next moment Akaashi had his head thrown back and eyes shut tight and, _huh_ , would you look at that, Koutarou can no longer breath.

Akaashi's laugh was gentle and soft and, so, very much like Akaashi, it encapsulates everything that he is, all the kindness and elegance that makes him who he is in a single sound. He had brought a hand up to cover his growing smile and just when Koutarou was regaining his ability to breathe, Akaashi let out a soft snort, just barely noticeable, but it sent Koutarou spiralling all over again. _How dare he be that fucking cute. The audacity._

When Akaashi had finally settled all that was left of Koutarou's downfall was a small smile, the sweetest of things as Akaashi's eyes were impossibly soft as he gazed at Koutarou and it was all he could do to not combust on the spot. _Why was he looking at him like that,_ I mean was he _trying_ to kill him, with his rosy cheeks and eyes sparkling brighter than the sun and the barest hint of dimples and with that look in his eyes like he thought Koutarou had hung the moon and the stars for him.

The look was gone as quickly as it came as Akaashi schooled his expression back into one of indifference, though the lightness in his eyes could not be concealed, “Continue,” Akaashi said quietly.

Koutarou paused, trying to regain his train of thought, but all he could think was _Akaashi's laugh, Akaashi's smile, Akaashi's eyes, Akaashi, Akaashi, Akaashi._ He clears his throat trying not to embarrass himself further by staying silent. Akaashi waits patiently, not making any move to hurry him up, “Um-” Koutarou stutters, still not able to form coherent thoughts, “You have a really nice laugh,” he mumbles.

Akaashi's eyes widen by a fraction, a small blush dusting his cheeks as he ducks his head, “Thank you,” he replies quietly, another small smile twitching at his (pretty) lips.

And Koutarou knows that he would do anything, _anything_ , to make him smile again.


	6. Tea Green: Sick with Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While watching a match, Koutarou gets soft (spoiler: he's in /love/) and Akaashi is smitten (not that Koutarou knows)
> 
> AKA: A Cliche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter one which is blah but i don't wanna over do it y'know???

Koutarou never really liked the colour green. It just didn't _vibe_ with him, y'know?

Though he must admit that since meeting Akaashi, he has grown rather fond of it. The deep greens that Akaashi wore so nicely added a whole other layer of elegance and beauty to everything that Akaashi already was. There was something about the forest hues that made Akaashi look otherworldly, like a nature spirit who wandered into the mortal world, blessing people with his everlasting beauty.

And, okay, maybe (just maybe), Koutarou is being a tad bit dramatic but trust him when he says that Akaashi looks _gorgeous_ in green.

Not right now though. Though, _technically,_ he isn't wearing green there's this sickly hue flowing off him in waves. His eyes are hard and clouded and his face twitched as if he was holding back a scowl. It's not a completely unfamiliar look so Koutarou recognizes it easily and he's defiantly not fond of what it is.

Akaashi's eyes are fixed on the court in front of them, eyes flickering between the players as they finish up their volley, his gaze always coming back and landing on the team setter. Koutarou holds back an exasperated sigh, While Akaashi doesn't plan to pursue volleyball outside of high school, he is continuously hard on himself for not being on the level of a prodigy (Oikawa and Kageyama come to mind.)

Koutarou likes to think he understands, he knows Akaashi well enough to know that he hates not being the best that he can be, especially if his performance can effect the success of others. And, yeah, it's a valid concern but Akaashi is much to hard on himself and Koutarou kind of hates it. Hates the insecurity that seeps into his posture the longer he watches. Koutarou leans close to him, “You're doing it again,” he whispers, teasing lilt to his voice.

Akaashi lips curl into the smallest of pout (don't look at his lips, _do not_ ) and he huffs softly, “No, I'm not.”

Koutarou chuckles at the immaturity of it, “You don't need to be so jealous,” he bumps their shoulders together, tilts his head and internally cheers at at the upward twitch of Akaashi's mouth.

His eyebrows scrunch (cute), “I don't think jealous is the right word,”

“Then what _is_ the right word?”

“Envy,”

Koutarou blinks, “Aren't those the same thing?”

Akaashi finally tears his gaze from the game, “Envy is wanting what someone has, jealousy is a reaction to the threat of losing something to someone else,”

“You're so smart,” Koutarou's voice sounds impossibly soft, even to himself, “But, whatever, you don't need to feel envious either,”

Akaashi frowns slightly, “I know,” his voice is level and steady, but Koutarou can hear the faintest tinge of frustration, “I know, I just can't help the feeling of inadequacy compared to them,”

“Well that's stupid,” Koutarou almost winces at how blunt that came out but he meets Akaashi's eyes nonetheless, “Not that you're stupid,” he corrects, “but you have _nothing_ to feel inadequate about,”

Something in Akaashi's eyes spark to life and Koutarou feels the urge to go on, “I mean, you're pretty much perfect, you're super dedicated and incredibly adaptable and you're a quick learner and you're, like, the only person who can deal with me without losing it,” his mind screams at him to _shut up,_ he's rambling at this point and he can feel the his face flush, but he can't seem to stop, “and you're an amazing setter and all around amazing person and also you're like _really, fucking gorgeous_ and-,” he finally cuts himself off with a sharp cough, “yeah,”

Akaashi stares at him, eyes hardened and searching, but unbelievably warm all the same; his lips purse and it's easy to see the smile he's repressing, “That's,” his voice is honey sweet, lighter than air, “incredibly sweet of you,” his cheeks are flushed a delicate pink and the sight makes Koutarou's heart pound harder (prettyprettypretty), “though I must disagree with the perfect part,” he continues.

Koutarou's face breaks out into a cheek aching grin, he lightly knocks their heads together, clinging onto the brief contact, “Akaashi Keiji,” he sighs softly, “perfectly imperfect,”

And Akaashi lights up, eyes shining with unimaginable fondness and he leans into Koutarou, shoulders pressed, electricity thrumming through his veins, his gaze settles back on the court, except this time the sickly green has receded and is replaced with something softer, something sweeter, something that Koutarou can't pin down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the next chapeter, which is the colour blue, i'm torn between "calm" or "nostalgia" what do you think??? and also any ideas for them???
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this!!! ANd I'm adoring all the feedback thank you so much!!!! It makes me soffftttt :))) ily


	7. Delft Blue: Traditions Melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleepover traditions are the #1 way to Koutarou's heart.
> 
> Akaashi coundn't get anymore obvious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with this amount of fluff??? have fun with this messss
> 
> This blue is a mix of serenity and calmness and y'know /familiarity/ and /comfort/ uwu

Staying the night at Akaashi's is always exciting. Like staying over in a hotel exciting expect better because is wasn't gross like hotels often are.

Koutarou and Akaashi have a small tradition for whenever they stay over at each others house. It consists of trashing the bed and constructing a makeshift blanket fort on it, they usually stay up watching movies for as long as they can (Akaashi is always asleep before one and it's very cute and Koutarou lives for it).

Today is no different, Koutarou has already assembled the fort on his own because it was previously discovered that Akaashi absolutely sucks at it. Akaashi is finishing up the last of his studying while Koutarou sets up the movies and takes some time to reminisce.

This mini tradition of blanket forts and movies is by far his favourite tradition he participates in. The pastel evenings that set into sparkling nights, the covered fort illuminated with the soft glow of the computer screen. Shared snacks and soft moments, the sweetness of the atmosphere filling Koutarou's heart with an all encompassing warmth. The time he spends with Akaashi in these moments is priceless and he wouldn't change it for the world.

Akaashi who usually dresses in such a composed manner, simply wearing single layers and light pyjamas and looking all soft and warm is a sight that Koutarou burns into his memory. These are the nights that Akaashi lets his guard down completely, lets himself smile and laugh and be open as if he doesn't have a care in the world and Koutarou relishes in the fact that Akaashi trusts him enough to be himself for once.

Something in the corner of his eye catches Koutarou by surprise, “'Kaashi! I didn't know you played the violin!”

Akaashi looks up, eyebrows scrunched together, “It's actually the viola,”

Koutarou pauses, “What's the difference?”

Akaashi stands up and grabs the viola from its case, making his way over the the bed, crawling into the fort and settles beside Koutarou, “The viola is bigger than the violin by a couple inches,” he runs his hand across the frame, “the sheet music is also slightly different, violinists use the treble cleft while, violists have to learn the alto cleft,”

Koutarou rests his chin on a hand, leaning forward in interest and doing his best to actually absorb what Akaashi was saying and not focusing on his hands (the way they ran across the instrument, fingertips brushing against the polished wood), his voice deep and gentle and it washes over Koutarou in a soft wave. Koutarou's gaze drifts down to Akaashi's lips (soft, pink, pretty) as he continues to explain the viola, “the overall tone of viola is a much fuller and rich sound compared to the violin -it's like an tenor instrument- and the strings, in order to lowest to highest, is C, G, D, A for the viola and G, D, A, E for the violin,”

Koutarou exhales softly as Akaashi comes to a stop, “I have no idea what that means,”

Akaashi laughs sweetly, eyes twinkling, “thats okay,” it's a murmur, a soft sentence that almost echos through the gentle atmosphere that fills the room.

Koutarou matches his tone, “Why did you choose the viola?” he asks, genuinely curious, but also just wanting to listen to Akaashi more.

Akaashi shifts, knees bumping against Koutarou's, “I liked the richer tones, they're deep and warm,” he fiddles with the bow, “The sharper tones of the violin have a tendency to grate of my nerves and it was a lot worse when I was younger so... viola,”

“Would you mind playing something?”

Akaashi positions himself and brings the bow up before pausing, “the bow on the viola also differs from the violin, the bow frogs are curved instead of straight and also heavier overall,”

Koutarou smiles and dismisses Akaashi's mumbled apology, he didn't mind the light info dumping, god knows he does it much more often and Akaashi never lets him apologize for it.

Akaashi brings the bow to the strings, straightening his back as he begins to play a delicate melody, the rich tones of the viola sliding like silk throughout the dusk lit room, the atmosphere becoming impossibly tender as Akaashi's expression melts into one akin to bliss. His eyes flutter shut and Koutarou no longer tries to hide his staring.

Akaashi's delicate features are smoothed out as his fingers dance across the strings and draw the tune into an extended play. Koutarou is one again drawn to his hands, the way they flex and stretch across the viola, Koutarou can feel his face flush, _he's so incredibly beautiful,_ his breath hitches slightly as Akaashi slowly finishes, eyes opening slowly, shining in the evening light. He looks at peace, a look Koutarou has become more and more familiar with.

Akaashi lowers the viola with a smile and Koutarou reciprocates without hesitation, “that was so pretty~” he warbles, “I get why you like the heavier tones,”

Akaashi gets up and puts the viola away without further comment, bouncing back to the bed and he all but collapses next to Koutarou. Grabbing the laptop and pulling close to Koutarous side. He seems lighter than he did before and Koutarou's glad that he managed to get Akaashi to ramble about his interests, it's evident that he doesn't get to talk about it all that much. 

The thoughts are cut short when Akaashi presses close into his side, closer and closer until they're pretty much cuddling. Koutarou can't even form coherent thoughts as Akaashi pulls up the first movie, because Akaashi is  _so close_ and  _so warm._ Electricity thrums through his veins and the back of their hands brush. The barest of brushes, but Koutarou can feel himself flush at the contact, thankfully Akaashi doesn't seem to notice.

As the sun sets beneath the horizon and the sky melts into the dark hues, glittering with familiar constellations and Koutarou want's to freeze this moment forever, the serenity in Akaashi's room, flowing into the (expertly) made blanket fort; it wraps itself around them, warm and gentle and all encompassing, resembling, more than anything, a loving hug. 

As tradition states Akaashi is asleep before one, somehow managing to press closer to Koutarou in the process, his head a comforting weight on his shoulder and Koutarou kind of wants to scream because from the soft looks and the viola and the _everything_ , he is more than overwhelmed in all the best ways possible. Akaashi sighs lightly, lips parting as he curls closer and yep~! This was, by far, his favourite tradition. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amount of will it took to not make them kiss?? unimaginable.
> 
> Also pls tell me if i got anything wrong with the viola,, kk thnx <3


	8. Mallow Purple: Doubts and the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Koutarou's having a weird-bad day
> 
> Akaashi does his best
> 
> Feelings make themselves known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick WARNING this chapter is heavier than the others because I'm vEnTInG (Shocking I know) there is SLIGHT mention of Suicidal Idealization no real depth to it
> 
> ALso just general feelings about the uncertainty of the future and the inevitability of change 
> 
> Long story short: This is a mess and its not even a hot one ;)

Koutarou was having a weird day. Not necessarily a bad one, but it defiantly wasn't a good one. He just felt off. His head aches, feeling like it was filled with sparkling water; he could feel it fizzing gently against his skull, the pressure builds.

He misses the majority of his spikes during practice. He can feel his teammates watching carefully, waiting for his to fall into one of his slumps, but he doesn't. He doesn't feel like he can, like it doesn't really matter despite how he feels at the missed tosses. He thinks that makes it worse.

Akaashi's eyes bore into him, his unwavering gaze feels like someone set fire to his veins, but it's the only thing that's keeping him from sinking into himself.

The walk home is quiet, Koutarou doesn't feel like talking, his thoughts far too muddled for him to string together a coherent sentence. Akaashi is shooting him concerned looks, his cool eyes flickering darkly at Koutarou's blank expression. His lips twitch and for a moment Koutarou thinks he's going to say something, his eyes flicker back to the pavement and Koutarou almost cries in relief when he stays silent.

Before Akaashi enters his house he turns to Koutarou with a contemplative look, “What's on your mind?”

Koutarou hesitates before meeting his eyes, he musters up a small smile, “It's nothing,” he rubs at his eyes, trying to break the harsh eye contact as Akaashi squints incredulously.

Akaashi purses his lips and nods slightly, his hands coming together as he fidgets, “Tell me if you need anything?”

Koutarou smiles, genuine this time, “Course, 'Kaashi,”

Akaashi hesitates, shoots him a small smile in return before heading inside.

Koutarou hopes things will get better once he's home. Maybe he just needs some time along, just some time to sort out his thoughts.

X

It doesn't get better, the pressure in his head builds further. He hasn't gotten any school work done, he can't seem to focus. It's worse than normal, his mind is fuzzy and there's something about it that hurts, a dull pounding behind his eyes.

He sits at his desk for far longer than he should have, his legs tucked against him and more than numb from his stagnant position. He only gets up when his mother shouts for dinner, he pushes his food around, taking small bites before asking if he could go out after he ate.

His mother frowned slightly, but agreed regardless telling him to stay safe and not stay out too late and to call if he needs to.

He heads out soon after, deciding to take a quick shower before so his hair wouldn't bother him later.

He puts a hat on, pushing it back and out of his face and he leaves, not worrying about the fact that he's still in sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

He heads to a nearby field. It's covered it small flowers, a delicate purple and a striking white that sticks out against the dark green of the grass. The field is empty and shrouded by trees a small spot that Koutarou found when he was younger, it's always been his favourite place to go.

He sits in the middle of it, stretching out on his back and gazing up into the sky, his mind stays there, trying to ignore the thoughts that swirl through him. The sky, he ponders, is endless, and while everybody knows this he doesn't know anybody who has _really_ thought about it. Probably for a good reason.

The sky is large and vast and empty. It makes Koutarou feel sad. How empty is the sky, how lonely it would be, the sun and moon are ultimately temporary sights, coming and going as the days pass by; the stars, the planets, they're so far away, existing within and out of reach simultaneously. The clouds are mist, the birds are fleeting, it's just the sky, full of life, but empty in the end, The ache from his head spreads down his arms and he resists the urge to scratch at them.

The sky can't feel this loneliness, he supposes, considering it's not alive. Koutarou can though, not that he has any reason too. Despite the logic that he tries to force to the front of his brain, his emotions pull ahead, devouring him completely, as they often do.

The old pang of loneliness shoots through his heart and he frowns at the stinging sensation. He hates this feeling, the feeling of nobody there, of nobody caring. Koutarou sighs sharply, trying to shake these thoughts. He's not lonely, he's  _not_ . He has plenty of friends, plenty of people who  _care_ about him.  _Not for long_ his traitorous mind chimes in.

He groans and presses the palms of his hands into his eyes, relishing at the colourful spots that appear. So that's what this whole mood was about,  _the future._

X

He calls Akaashi on impulse, not a hundred percent knowing why. Akaashi shouldn't have to deal with this, with anything that Koutarou all but pushes on him. The mood swings, the sulking, the incessant chatter, its like,  _god_ does he ever  _shut up_ , it's a miracle Akaashi hasn't left him in a ditch somewhere by now.

Akaashi, being the saint he is, agrees to come and talk with him, so Koutarou rattles off some directions and hangs up, eyes drifting back to the sky, as the setting sun paints it in a warm light.

A twigs snaps and he looks up, Akaashi is walking towards him and Koutarou takes this moment to really  _ look  _ at Akaashi, something he doesn't let himself do as often as he'd like. Akaashi is wearing a simple pair of jeans and a light sweatshirt but Koutarou thinks he looks gorgeous. His cheeks are dusted with a gentle pink and his lips are parted and they look so  _ soft  _ and  _ sweet  _ and for a split second Koutarou thinks he has the courage to kiss him. He doesn't.

Akaashi comes to a stop above him, looking down fondly, “Hi,” Koutarou says quietly.

“Hey,” Akaashi's voice is smooth, impossibly gentle and endlessly patient and Koutarou can't help but wilt at the tone, veins pooling with guilt.

Akaashi reaches out a hand, making a grabbing gesture when Koutarou freezes. He reaches out, the warmth of Akaashi's hand envelops his wholly, fingers intertwined and curling around the back of Koutarou's hand. His hands are calloused but soft, warm and comforting and the mere grasping of hands is more than Koutarou can handle right now. So, he panics and before he can think it through he yanks, hard. Akaashi squeaks in surprise, gravity (and Koutarou) dragging him down, he lands on top of Koutarou and,  _ shit,  _ this isn't any better. 

Akaashi is sprawled on top of him for only a moment before he rolls off and settles on his stomach beside him. He's looking at Koutarou curiously but he doesn't say anything and Koutarou can't seem to meet his eye.

Koutarou licks his lips, hating the sudden dryness of his mouth, “You ever realize how nothing ever lasts?” he blurts out because he's a dumbass and that apparently how he starts conversations now, just some light existential dread.

Akaashi cocks his head to the side, eyes gleaming and even in his dejected state Koutarou almost keels over at the sight, “Like,” he continues, pushing past his sudden feelings of  _ wow Akaashi is pretty _ , “that's pretty fucked up right?”

Akaashi doesn't even blink, face remaining impassive, “I suppose,”

Koutarou falls silent not quite sure how to continue. He swiftly changes the subject, “What do you want to do after high school,” _ah, yes, because_ _that's_ a better topic.

Akaashi's eyes flicker and he suddenly looks sad, like, on the verge of tears sad and  _ holy shit  _ Koutarou wants the ground to swallow him whole. Akaashi doesn't say anything at first, he just leans into Koutarous side and rests his forehead gently on Koutarou's chest and  _ fuck _ , y'know what maybe the ground can wait a couple seconds, “I don't know,” Akaashi finally says, it's barely a whisper and if Koutarou's mind wasn't focused entire on  _ AkaashiAkaashiAkaashi  _ he doubts he would have heard it.

Akaashi continues, still quiet, still sad, “I've never been particularly passionate about anything,” a small laugh, “I barely know what I'm even interested in,” he looks at Koutarou with a unsteady smile, “That's what I've always admired about you Bokuto, you're always so passionate, about everything... it's nice,”

Akaashi's eyes are suspiciously wet, and Koutarou's heart aches at the sight. He never wanted to make Akaashi upset, “What about you Bokuto,” he asks, a knowing look on his face, “What do you want to do after high school,”

Akaashi is still very close to him, their sides are pressed together and one of Akaashi's arms has made it's way onto his chest and the slight weight send Koutarou's mind into a frenzy, “Volleyball,” he mumbles, because he's predictable and boring, he snorts sharply, “What else,”

“What's on your mind tonight, Bokuto?”

“What are the chances of me actually accomplishing anything after high school, I mean,” Koutarou's voice is levelling on hysterical at this point, “I've got, what? A twenty-five percent chance of going pro, maybe,  _ maybe  _ a fifty if I push myself past my limits?” Akaashi looks like he wants to say something but he barrels on, “I'm not good at school so the chances of me having a plan to fall back on is zero, and then what? Work a shitty part time, minimum wage, job with no benefits and shitty hours and shitty people for the rest of my shitty life?!”

Koutarous voice wobbles dangerously and it's pathetic that he's crying but he looks over and Akaashi is crying too. Silent tears slowly trailing down his face and like Koutarou didn't feel like shit already, now he's made Akaashi cry, “I'm sorry,” the way it escapes him is pitiful, “I'm sorry I dragged you out here just to bitch about things and make you upset,”

“No, no don't apologize,” Akaashi shakes his head, hastily wiping his cheeks, “They are valid concerns, getting to go pro is  _ hard  _ and the chances  _ aren't  _ in your favour,” Akaashi pauses and Koutarou is  _ sure  _ that he's just going to leave it at that, “But,” he continues, “you are full of potential, and passion and Koutarou,” he jolts at the use of him name, at the tone it's spoken in, soft, sweet and full of... full of  _ something,  _ “Koutarou, if anyone can beat the odds? It's  _ you. _ ” Akaashi speaks so earnestly, so full of confidence that Koutarou starts to believe it's true, “I'm not going to tell you it's going to be easy, because that'd be a lie, but, I am confident that you can do it, that everything will fall into place,”

Koutarou looks at him and lets out a shaky breath, “You always know what to say,”

Akaashi's mouth twists into an easy smile, “Anything else on your mind,”

Koutarou laughs, “Oh! So much 'Kaashi~”

He throws his arms into the air in exasperation. Well, he throws one arm up, the one near Akaashi lightly curls around his waist, in a burst of confidence that Koutarou didn't know he had left in him. Akaashi simply nods, “Tell me about it,”

Koutarou hesitates, the topic in mind is not one he's exactly eager to talk about with Akaashi, but then Akaashi smiles at him, a comforting grin and pretty eyes and his pretty hand in tracing feather light patterns on his chest and, fuck it, whatever, he's doing this now, “SO! Relationships are stressful,” that's good, defiantly  _ not  _ awkward at  _ all _ , Akaashi snorts lightly and simply raises an eyebrow, “And I know that, realistically, it's not something I should be stressing over but,” he sighs, “the whole world pretty much revolves around love and that's not inherently a bad thing but...do you think anyone will love me? Unconditionally?”

Akaashi looks shocked, “Of course,” he leans forward, suddenly very determined looking, “Bokuto you make it very hard for people to not love you,”

Koutarou doesn't really believe that, he knows he's not easy to love because he's not easy to care about, “I've been told that I would be lucky if I found someone who loved me,”

Akaashi looks livid, “I will literally kill whoever said that to you,” he says, uncharacteristically heated and Koutarou startles at the tone.

He doesn't say anything, just nods in agreement, “Okay, it's your turn,”

“What?”

“It's your turn, go on,” a light nudge, “rant about the future,”

Akaashi stares at him, eyes blazing like he doesn't want to change the subject just yet, but he relents with a sigh, “The future is just a blur to me and it's scary 'cause of course it is.” Akaashi's eyes are glossy with tears again and he wipes them with a self-deprecating laugh, “I can't even talk about it without fucking crying, just-” he breaks off with a huff, deciding that fully laying on Koutarou's chest would help (Koutarou, on the other hand, feel like he's going to burst into flames), “it sucks, I hate it and I hate how I'm not interested in anything and I don't want to go to college just for the sake of going because that's a waste of money and-” he comes to a sudden halt and tension seeps into the air.

“And what?” Koutarou isn't a hundred percent sure if he actually want's to know.

“and I can't picture myself living past eighteen,” it's a quiet confession, mumbled like he doesn't want to admit it.

Koutarou stiffens, shooting up to his elbows, arm curling tighter around Akaashi's waist, “ _ What, _ ” it comes put as a disbelieving cry.

Akaashi's eyes dull and Koutarou can feel worry frantically building in his chest, “It's hard to picture a future when you don't expect to yourself to live that long,” a monotone reply and Koutarou scrambles to keep Akaashi from shutting down.

Akaashi interrupts his scrambling thoughts, “I'm not gonna do anything stupid, but that doesn't mean I don't think about it,” a shaky smile, “it's nothing to worry about, I promise,”

“I-” Koutarou's voice cracks, and he settles back down “believe you, but I'm going worry regardless,”

Akaashi nods, the motion creating friction on Koutarou's chest, “That's fair,”

“I will literally drag you through life myself, I mean I was already planning to keep you within eyesight but bold of you to think I'll ever let you leave my side now,” the words are teasing but he knows Akaashi picks up on the genuine meaning in his words the  _ I'm here for you,  _ the  _ I'm not letting you go through this alone. _

They lay there silently, looking at the sky that has long since faded into a pale dusk, the first stars of the night shining brightly above, Koutarou wants to say more. More about the endless sky, more about the inevitability of change, more about how much he cares but Akaashi doesn't need that, doesn't need to hear something that he already knows, not now at least.

A thought brushes his mind, the briefest thought that now would be a good time to tell Akaashi, tell him everything, that he  _ is everything _ , that at this point Koutarou's world practically revolves around him. But then Akaashi grabs his free hand and brings it up to his mouth, his lips brush it softly, the barest of things, an immeasurable amount of gratitude and sweetness in one simple gesture and Koutarou looks at Akaashi, how he all but glows in the evening light and surround by the purples and whites of the flowers and thinks,  _ yeah, he already knows. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter has a lot going on nut I'm feeling a lot of things and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
> 
> Also I watched Maurice (1987) recently and i needed to write something were they lied in the grass because its tender :P
> 
> ALso I changed my IG to frayed_freyr just thought I'd tell you uwu
> 
> ALSo why does every single chapter take place at sunset??? hell if i know


	9. Pretty in Pink: An Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The zenith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for this taking so long and also being garbage!!!!!!
> 
> A lots been going on in my life recently thats is weird soooo have this ?????

They don't talk about it.

Deep down Koutarou knows they have to, that graduation is no longer in the distant future, but something is holding him back.

Maybe it's pure cowardice, something akin to fear that stops him in his tracks, something screaming that if they don't talk, Koutarou can live in this fantasy world where Akaashi likes him back. He knows it's pathetic, but when he looks at Akaashi everything stops, time stands still as if giving Koutarou time to take him in- again and again and again. Akaashi never stops being beautiful, not in his countless hues, the good and the bad, he shines brighter than it all. Beautiful.

Koutarou continues to admire from afar, well as far as he can since most of his time is spent by Akaashi's side. It's a simple pleasure if not a painful one. To look and look and look but never get too close lest he breaks apart. Lest he crumbles to dust at the sight of Akaashi's eyes, the sound of his laugh, the ghost feeling of his touch, as if they were still laying in that field, surrounded by flowers and full of uncertainty.

Akaashi doesn't seem to make an effort to talk to him either, maybe he doesn't want to, maybe he can feel the fear that seems to roll off Koutarou in waves, maybe, maybe, maybe. Koutarou wishes he had a solid answer, wished he knew what Akaashi was thinking, feeling, but he knows that's not how it works. He needs to make an effort.

They need to talk about it.

Koutarou feels like he's drowning, everything he feels comes to light around Akaashi, the fear, the admiration, the guilt, the love, the everything. It swirls and pools and suffocates Koutarou on the spot.

It's a lot. It's too much. Akaashi smiles at him, soft and sweet; he laughs, and it's lovely, Akaashi is lovely and Koutarou's melting. He's can fell the heat in his veins, ricocheting through his bones, tearing him apart from the inside out, it's too much. Koutarou loves Akaashi, more than he can put into words, more than he can put into thoughts and it's suddenly very exhausting.

It drags him down, weighing like a lead ball in his chest and for once he _hates_ it, _hates_ this agony that he's in. It has long since stretched from when Akaashi is around to all the time. Fiery and heavy at the mere thought of the steel eyes. It aches. 

Koutarou wonders if Akaashi feels the same, feels with the same intensity that Koutarou does. Koutarou's emotions bubble over and spill. They control him just as much as he controls them. They are strong and hard and they crash against him like the ocean against rocks. Koutarou feels things so strongly, so intensely that it can consume him.

Akaashi does not.

Yes, Akaashi feels things strongly. He feels the drowning and the fire and the pain and he hates it. For different reasons. Emotions, feelings, love and friendship. They all lead to one thing. Vulnerability. Akaashi loathes it, loathes the feeling of being weak, of being less that he is. He prides himself on his steady demeanour, someone who doesn't falter in the face of defeat and emotions cause all the steadiness and all the apathy he feels to come crashing down. He's scared and he hates it, so he buries it.

They really need to talk about it.

It peaks. Comes to it's final zenith before it collapses completely. Koutarou can no longer hold it in and Akaashi can only bottle up so much.

They're walking home. Sun dipping into the horizon, a constant in their many moments. They're dowsed in the warm hues of the setting sun and Koutarou speaks before he can think it through, “We really need to talk about things 'Kaashi,”

Akaashi stiffens beside him, looking uncomfortable with this new direction. Koutarou power throughs, “'cause there is a lot to talk about y'know? And I know I'm not subtle about anything and even if I was I'm sure you'd know anyway 'cause you're super smart and-,” he's rambling now, he can't seem to stop, he doesn't want to, “-I just- I  _really_ like you Akaashi, like, a whole lot and I'm- Well, I could be misreading it, but I'm pretty sure you feel the same?” His legs have gone numb so he stops walking and his hands are shaking, he can feel his throat constricting and his nerves grow.

Akaashi doesn't say anything, his eyes unblinking and staring right. at. Koutarou. They dig into his heart, root around and trash the place, there's a tinge of desperation in them, a hint of something that Akaashi does not say. Koutarou knows Akaashi better than anyone. And he knows that Akaashi likes thinking his words through before saying them, but right now it's killing him to wait, “And if I'm totally wrong you could please just ignore this and forget it ever happened? That be fine too,” his voice is high and hurried with panic and Akaashi is  _not_ making this easier for him.

Akaashi lips twitch into a frown, “You are not wrong,” when he speaks his voice is like honey and silk and something unfurls in Koutarou's chest.

Akaashi doesn't say more and Koutarou squirms under his intense gaze. It is silent for a few more moments and Koutarou's about t rip his hair out by the roots when Akaashi sighs, “You're not wrong,” he repeats, “You are not subtle and I have known for quite some time about your feelings for me,” he pauses, fingers twitching before he takes Koutarou's hands in his own. Koutarou can no longer breath, Akaashi does not seem to notice, “I apologize for taking so long to acknowledge them but I had to think somethings through,” he smiles up at Koutarou and  _fuck,_ “But, I can now confidently say that, yes, Koutarou, I really like you too, like a whole lot.”

His name is breathy on Akaashi's lips, the syllables falling so sweetly from his mouth (pretty mouth and pretty lips) and Koutarou no longer holds back. Akaashi seems to expect it, seems to be waiting for it.

The moment their lips touch the world turns on its head. Koutarou's heart skips a beat, and his hands shake their way out of Akaashi's to settle snugly on his hips, Akaashi's lips are soft, softer than he imagined, but hands are rough, calloused fingertips brushing through the hair on the nape of his neck and the stark contrast has Koutarou's head spinning.

Koutarou squeezes Akaashi's hips gently and the appreciative hum that Akaashi makes in return might be his favourite thing in the world. He pulls back breathless and takes in the sight in front of him, Akaashi. Whose lips are glossy and pick, whose eyes are hooded, but brighter now then they've ever been and Koutarou can't resist the sight as he pulls Akaashi close for a soft kiss, “Keiji,” he mumbles into the kiss, “Keiji,” he repeats it like a mantra.

When Akaashi pulls away it's with a soft smile and that  _damned_ unreadable look in his eyes, except this time Koutarou knows what it is, what is means and his eyes sting at the realization, “Keiji,” his voice warbles dangerously, and he has so much to say, so much in his head, “You're seriously so pretty,” he settles for and relishes in the sweet blush that dusts Akaashi's cheeks.

But Akaashi doesn't falter, simply brings a hand to cup his cheek and says, teasing smile and voice dripping in adoration, “I think you stole my line,”

Koutarou melts, smiling widely and the boy in front of him. At this pretty boy and all his pretty colours and something selfish in the back of Koutarou whispers and Koutarou can't help but agree wholeheartedly. Akaashi Keiji looks best in pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuck..this highkey is not the bestt but i hope you enjoyed in regardless 
> 
> This is the last chapter so thank you for reading this whole shabang :p
> 
> pls yell at me in the comments 
> 
> ALso Bokuto's and clingy bitch and Akaashi has issues with vulnerability so they have a rough thing coming, thank GOD theyre soulmates


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